Stormy Weather Ahead!
by spiceXisXnice
Summary: Oh dear! Chase and his magical storm has upheaved a band of 9 sailors on a 'deserted' island! But is that love and cheap wine I smell in the air? Disclaimer: I do not own Xiaolin Showdown, and I give much praise to the brilliant William Shakespeare.


A/N: Hello, my darling Shakesperian fans! After I wrote my (somewhat) successful fic, 'Romance Across the Snow', I felt the need to do a comedy. I had 2 suggestions for Midsummer Night's Dream, a suggestion of The Merchant of Venice, and a suggestion for Taming of the Shrew.

Jack: Ooh, why didn't you do that one? I could've tamed Kimiko!

A/N: Somehow, I don't think she'd appreciate being called a shrew.

Jack: Then, Midsummer Night's Dream! I could've been Nick!

A/N: Well, you are a terrific ass. ANYWHO, those all got thrown out the window (sorry, kiddies) when my mother suggested The Tempest. I simply had to make Kimiko & Raimundo naive and Jack & Clay drunks. Simply HAD to. So, without further ado, may I present the newest in my line of Shakesperian fanfics, 'Stormy Weather Ahead!'

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It was nighttime, or at least, it was dark enough to be nighttime. There is a ship with many people on deck, as a storm rages outside. A girl sailor, blonde and fair, rushes on deck, panic in her eyes, and she yells, "Tubbimura!"

"I'm here, Ashley!" cried the man known as Tubbimura. He was a large man, dressed neatly in black, soaked to the bone. His head was covered in a black cloth. He ran over to the woman and asked, "How can I help you?"

"My good man," said Ashley, laying her hand on Tubbi's shoulder, "give the other sailors a pep talk—and do it fast, before we're shipwrecked. Hurry, hurry!" she added, going back below deck.

Tubbimura turned to the men on the riggings, coughing up water and squinting to focus on the sails. "Come on, men! That's the way to do it!" he called. "Quickly! Quickly! Take in the upper sail! Listen to the master's orders!" He looked on to the billowing sea and leaned over the railings, yelling, "Blow your heart out, storm! So long as we have enough room to avoid running aground!" A gust of wind caught him in the back, nearly sending him over. A yellow hand gripping his arm saved him, pulling him back.

"Be careful, Tubbi!" said the man. He was tall, strong, and yellow. "Where's Ashley?" he asked.

"Please stay below deck, Dashi," said Tubbi. "This storm is fierce."

"Where's Ashley?" persisted Dashi.

"He's busy, can't you hear him giving orders?" snapped Tubbi, turning back to the men. "You're getting in the way of our work. Stay in your cabins. You're helping the storm, not us."

"A piece of broken bamboo hosts no birds," said an older man next to Dashi.

"Don't talk in metaphors, Fung!" said Tubbi, spinning back around angrily. "Now get out of here! Do you think these waves care anything about kings and officials? Go to your cabins and be quiet!"

"Do you not remember who we are?" asked Master Fung calmly.

"Nobody I care about more than myself," said Tubbi equally as calmly. "You're a king's advisor. If you can order the storm to calm down, we can all put down our ropes and rest. Go ahead, use your authority!" he said, as if daring Master Fung. "If you can't do it, be grateful you've lived this long and go wait to die in your cabin, if it comes to that—" he turned to the men and yelled, "Harder, men!" then back to the royals. "—Now get out of our way, I'm telling you." He then ran off to help the men.

"I feel a lot better after talking to this guy," said Master Fung.

"Oh yeah, a lot better," said a tanned, brown-haired, handsome man sarcastically. "He doesn't look like a person who would drown—he looks like he was born to be hanged as a criminal. I hope he lives long enough to be hanged. The rope that hangs him will do more good than all the ropes on this ship, since it'll guarantee he stays alive through this storm. But if he's not destined to die by hanging, then our chances don't look too good."

"Now, now," said Master Fung.

Meanwhile, Tubbi was still helping the men. "Bring down that top sail! Fast! Lower, lower! Let the ship sail close to the wind!" A shout was heard below, and Tubbi swore, "Damn those men shouting down there! They're louder than the storm or us sailors."

"Excuse me," said Master Fung below. Tubbi looked down and groaned. The tan one and the yellow one were gone, but two new ones had joined the old man: a young man with brown hair in a ponytail and a middle-aged, large, very muscled man.

"Oh, not you again," Tubbi groaned. "What do you want? Should we all give up and drown? Do you want to sink?"

"Oh, go to hell, you loud-mouthed bastard!" said the muscled one.

"Your mom!" Tubbi yelled back.

"Just die, you lowlife!" yelled the brown haired one. He had a drawling southern accent. "Go ahead and die, you nasty, rude bastard! You're more scared of drowning than we are."

"I guarantee he won't drown," soothed Master Fung, trying to keep the peace, "even if this ship were as fragile as an eggshell."

Tubbi sighed and rolled his eyes. "Turn the ship to the wind!" he yelled to the mariners. "Set the sails and let her go out to sea again!"

"It's no use!" wailed a bright redheaded man forlornly. "Pray for your lives! We're done for!"

"What, we're going to die?" yelled Tubbi back.

"The king and the prince are praying," Master Fung informed the other two. "Let's go join them, since whatever happens to them happens to us too."

"I'm out of patience," said the muscled one.

"Yes, we've been cheated out of our lives by a bunch of drunken, incompetent sailors," said the southern one. He turned to Tubbi and yelled, "I hope you drown ten times over!"

"I agree with Raimundo, that he'll still die by hanging, not drowning, even if every drop of water in the sea tries to swallow him," said Master Fung.

Various voices below began screaming in terror and yelling things like, 'God have mercy on us!—The ship's breaking up!—Goodbye, wife and kids!—Goodbye, brother!—We're breaking up, we're breaking up!'

"Let's all sink with the king," said the southern man vehemently.

"Let's say goodbye to him," agreed the muscled one. The two left to the cabin.

Master Fung looked up to Tubbi, then over across the raging sea. "Right now I'd give a thousand miles of sea for one little acre of dry ground: a barren weed patch, a scorching desert, anything at all," he said to himself. "What's destined to happen will happen, but I'd give anything to be dry when I die." With a shake of his old head, he too went into the cabin, to die with his king.

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A/N: Eh? R&R folks, g'night!


End file.
